


Drinking Alone

by SqueezeBabe



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Banana Fish Smut Week 2020, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueezeBabe/pseuds/SqueezeBabe
Summary: The hidden significance of a bottle of beer.
Relationships: Okumura Eiji/Sing Soo-Ling
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47
Collections: Banana Fish Smut Week





	Drinking Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here is me trying to write something for smutweek... again... Nothing will ever top my first attempt one year ago, but hey, consider this "growth".

It had begun much the same way as most inexplicable things began. A series of small inconsequential events that eventually snowballed themselves into something… more.

And in much the same way that small, inconsequential events usually begin, this one had started with… beer.

Sing had noticed the empty bottle on the kitchen table when he returned late one evening. Eiji had left it there, seemingly alone and forlorn and without any evidence of the rest of them, case or carton, in the darkness of the apartment. 

One sad, unaccompanied bottle; an allegory of what Eiji’s life had become since Ash Lynx died. 

The lone bottle, left out late into the night, continued randomly over the weeks, bleeding into what felt like months. He never could talk to Eiji about it, after all, what was there to say? It was just one bottle. 

That was until he came home earlier than usual, but still late enough that it was dark, and any reasonable person should be in bed asleep.

The apartment was dark, and there was that one bottle, in the middle of the kitchen table, almost like it was mocking him. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, fingers closing over the neck of the bottle, ready to throw it in the trash where it belonged.

He paused. The glass of the bottle was still cool to the touch. He slowly slid his hand around the bottle itself, noting that it was damp from the beads of condensation that had slid downwards, inexorably drawn by gravity to create a small damp ring where it sat on the table.

Small sounds reached his ears, amplified by the stillness of the apartment. A hitching breath, a muffled sigh, and a quiet rhythmic patter. His subconscious knew what those noises were, his cock hardening in his pants before his brain had a chance to register what it was that he could hear. 

Sing crept down the hallway, his eyes already well and truly adjusted to the gloom. Eiji’s bedroom door was slightly ajar, enough so that he could see into the room itself.

Ambient light spilled into the room from the window, the pale silvery glow of the moon lending itself to the ethereal quality of what Sing saw before him… Eiji was laid out on his bed, naked, his pale skin almost glowing in the soft muted light, his dark hair framing his flushed face, the loose inky tendrils spilling out over his chest. 

Sing’s stomach gave a lurch as his eyes ghosted over the puckered flesh of scars long healed, even as they continued to travel downwards along Eiji’s lithe physique. He palmed his cock through the material of his pants, even as he watched Eiji’s hands moving rhythmically along his own. He stood transfixed in the doorway as the tip of the Japanese man’s cock glistened in the muted luminescence of the moon, even as it swelled and darkened in colour. He listened as Eiji’s breathing hitched, and watched as his body arched, as pearly white essence dotted a random pattern across the smooth skin of Eiji’s stomach.

He dreamed that night, of a laughing sun and a dark moon that hid its face. 

\----

Something had shifted, the dynamic between the two of them imperceptibly altered. Sing woke in the middle of the night, one of the rare occasions when he was actually home and in bed before Eiji, to find the Japanese man in his bed, his small body curled into Sing’s much larger frame. 

That’s when he discovered that Eiji talked in his sleep, the man rambling in his native tongue, but one word uttered over and over.

_ Ashu. _

When he woke up in the morning, the sun peeking through his curtains, his bed was empty, and there was an empty bottle of beer on the kitchen table.

\----

And then, at some point, it escalated. It wasn’t obvious at first, but he was sure it happened around the time he figured that Eiji would actually answer questions in his sleep. Innocuous at first, but then Sing had asked him if he and Ash had ever… 

Eiji had sighed, quietened, his body changing with the lassitude of sleep, but not before a whisper of a word had fallen from his lips.

_ No. _

\----

Sing now dreamed of kissing those lips, hyper aware of the warm body in his bed. The  _ untouched _ body in his bed. Something about that knowledge made his pulse quicken and gave rise to the now familiar tightening in his groin. He raised a hand to brush away an errant strand of hair, teasing the soft silken weave between his fingers before raising it to his lips reverently. 

Was he in love? Would he be able to compare to the shadow of a man who still burned bright enough to blind Eiji to everything else around him?

\----

He came home one evening, to find Eiji sitting at the kitchen table, his back towards the front door, the apartment shrouded in darkness, nursing a single bottle of beer. The atmosphere had an almost surreal quality to it, the muted twilight making it feel like it could all be just a dream...

Sing walked up behind him, his hand reaching to rest on Eiji’s shoulder, before sliding his fingers along Eiji’s neck to cup his chin and tilt his head backwards. Sing leaned over, his lips brushing against Eji’s tentatively, waiting for a sign of some sort, something to let him know that…

There was a sharp intake of breath, from whom he wasn’t quite sure, and then Eiji seemingly melted against him, his mouth opening slightly, his lips biting gently, tentatively, at Sing’s own questing lips. His stomach clenched, the blood rushing straight to his cock, even as his hands trembled with the sudden effort it took to keep himself from pushing Eiji across the kitchen table and burying his cock deep into the man’s virgin arse.

Their lips broke apart, chests heaving with ragged breaths. Their eyes staring into each other’s dark depths, looking for  _ something _ , to convey some sort of message, though neither of them really knew what exactly. 

Eiji was the first to move, slowly getting up from his seat, eyes downcast in the gloom. Was he having second thoughts about what they’d just shared? Was Eiji going to tell him that it had all been a mistake? 

In a swift motion, Eiji downed the rest of the beer, the droplets of condensation sparkling like stars as they caught the faint lights coming in through the windows of the apartment. The bottle clattered onto the table as it overbalanced, Eiji carelessly putting it on the table and already turning to face him. 

They both reached for one another, lips searching in the darkness before coming together, hungrily and with a searing heat that nearly took his breath away. Sing’s hands grasped at Eiji’s waist before dropping down to cup his arse, pulling him flush against his body, his erection straining against his pants. He was sure Eiji could feel it, it would be impossible _ not _ to.

He felt an answering heat; an intumescence that rubbed up against his own, signaling that Eiji was as every bit turned on as he was. He groaned into the Japanese man’s mouth, his hips grinding against Eiji’s in a subconscious expression of his very real desires. 

Eiji tugged at his shirt, Sing letting go of his hips to raise his arms above his head, allowing Eiji to pull it off; Sing doing the same thing as soon as he was able, their hands and mouths feverishly reaching for each other again. The contact of their bare flesh sent a delicious thrill through Sing, making him greedy for more.

Hands reaching to cup Eiji’s butt, Sing, gripped tightly before lifting the smaller man. Eiji immediately wrapped his legs around Sing’s waist, the bulge of his erection hot against the Chinese man’s stomach, even as Sing’s cock pushed up against his bottom. Sing nudged Eiji with it; showing him what he really wanted to do with it. Eiji moaned against his lips, the grip of his legs tightening, his hips shifting as he did his best to grind into Sing’s abdomen. 

It was more by memory and feeling that Sing managed to make it to his bedroom, Eijis’ arms tightly around his neck as they continued kissing, an ardent expression of lips and tongue, searching and tasting, making them crave for more. 

His knees found his bed with a small thud, nearly causing him to overbalance. As it was he managed to get them both squarely onto his bed, before tumbling forward, pinning Eiji underneath him. 

Sing broke their kiss, his lips tracing a line down the column of Eiji’s neck, even has he shimmied his body back, his hands fumbling with the button of Eiji’s pants before he managed to undo them, pulling them down and off, his mouth already moving against Eiji’s straining cock through the fabric of his underwear. 

The sounds falling from Eiji’s lips, only spurred Sing on. He quickly shucked off his own pants, even as his teeth were tugging down Eiji’s underwear, freeing his cock from their now sticky confines. It was every bit as beautiful as he remembered, precum beading at the tip, beckoning and begging for him to taste it. 

His lips closed over Eiji’s cock, swallowing as much of it as he could. His movements were feverish and passionate, leaving no chance for finesse or technique. Within moments Eiji’s hands were threading through his short hair, gripping it tightly as salty heat spurted across Sing’s tongue and down his throat.

Sing looked up at that moment. The moonlight streaming through the window seemed to make Eiji’s pale skin glow. His face was flushed, and strands of dark hair were hugging his face. His eyes were squeezed shut and his bottom lip was clenched between his teeth. 

He made his way up the bed, pulling Eiji’s hips up against his own, getting his knees underneath the man’s bottom, raising it, even as he was reaching for the lube that he knew would be in the top drawer of his bedside table. Flipping the cap off with his thumb, he poured the contents over his fingers, the bottle rolling off the bed in his haste to press them against the tight puckered flesh of Eiji’s hole. 

They slid in easily, almost  _ too _ easily, but Sing didn’t care. It just meant that he’d be able to sink his cock into this tight heat that much sooner. He pushed his fingers in deeper, the way Eiji’s hole seemed to cling to them made his cock throb painfully. He moved them a few times, more to coat everything in lube; his dick would be more than adequate to wring another orgasm from the panting man beneath him. 

He withdrew his fingers, quickly lining up his cock with Eiji’s twitching hole. He paused for a moment, searching Eiji’s face for any trace of apprehension, any sign that he’d changed his mind. Eiji’s eyes opened for a moment, before he shut them again, arching his back and pushing his arse against Sing’s cock.

It was all the reassurance he needed. Sing pushed his cock into Eiji’s arse, groaning loudly at the way the tightness gripped him, rippled across his shaft and felt like it was going to milk him dry. Eiji’s own moan echoed through the room, the man clutching handfuls of the bedsheets as Sing bottomed out, his hips flush against Eiji’s own.

Sing’s hands moved to grip Eiji’s thighs, pushing them upwards as he began to thrust. Slow and shallow at first, before pleasure caused his hips to move erratically, the pace building, each thrust wringing out mewling cries as his cock hit Eiji’s prostate over and over again. 

With a shuddering cry, Sing thrust a final time, his cock twitching and his hips stuttering as he emptied himself deep inside Eiji, who’s own answering orgasm spilled thick ropes of white across his heaving stomach. 

Breathing heavily, Sing couldn’t help the small wave of regret that coursed through him. He felt like a hopeless romantic as he fought down the twinge of guilt that Eiji’s first time wasn’t more… tender. 

His cock softened, eventually withdrawing from Eiji’s still trembling hole. He leaned forwards, brushing his lips across Eiji’s sweaty brow, throwing silent apologies into the darkness, and promises to do better next time. 

Eiji tilted his head upwards, his lips ghosting across Sing’s cheek, and when Sing looked down at him, there was no mistaking the soft smile that played across his face.

“Thank you.”

Sing let out a breathless chuckle, even as he captured Eiji’s lips with his own, kissing him with all the tenderness he could muster, not minding that dampness that made their bodies slick together.

There would be plenty of time to clean up later.

\----

Sing had managed to get home early that following evening, still buoyed by his feelings from the night before. His heart swelled to see that Eiji was waiting for him in the kitchen, a bottle of beer at the ready, and a warm smile on his face. Sure, he might never get over Ash, but at least they had this, for now. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Ta-da! I hope you enjoyed it! :)
> 
> Once again , if you have any tag suggestions, just let me know - you can come scream at me on Twitter @SqueezeBabe.


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